8 Weeks Old

Exactly 8 weeks today. There was no real fanfare - he's now part of the family rather than some sort of new addition - plus we have been celebrating behavioral milestones more than aged ones recently. Like his increase in smiles, the first actual tear shed from is eyes, and number of degrees of incline his head can achieve during 'tummy time.' Of course, that's only an exaggeration...we don't actually measure degrees.

There was a moment today which sort of freaked me out because I realize how easy it is to become horrible, horrible parents. Let me explain. Recently, Kenzo has been much more cooperative in terms of giving us time to eat. During the day, and into the early evening, he has become much more tolerant, quiet, and manageable. This makes it easy to let him do his own thing, whether it be in his swinging chair, bouncy chair, or on the couch. He loves these places, so we've been letting him just hang out more than we did before. So today, he was in his bouncy chair after being fed. It just so happened that at the same time, dinner became ready, and Asako and I realized that this was a great opportunity to try and eat together without interruption. So we ran over to the table and started scarfing while talking about each other's days. At a certain point, Kenzo coo'd out to us, and we realized that he was sitting in his bouncy chair, only 2 feet away from our large television screen, staring straight up at it while something awful like "Extra" snuck its way into our living room. Kenzo was just sitting there, alone, watching Extra. I wanted to slap myself on the wrist. So we ran over and saved him and we all ate as one big, happy family.

The end.

6 Weeks old

Kenzo has been around now for 6 weeks and 2 days. That's almost as long as it takes me to typically get around to cleaning the toilet. But miraculously, I've cleaned the toilet at least thrice since Kenzo was born. That's what having children will do to a man.

The best moments of my day occur when he's laying flat on his back, doing the inverted running man in a desperate attempt to pass gas. Once he does, an angelic smile emerges on his face, and he is instantly the king of the room. Congratulations go around the room for relieving some of his gas, and with the very human-like stench of ripe fart still wafting, I pat his belly and declare him a very, very good boy. (Only in my dreams would I receive responses to farts similar to this. This boy has no idea how good he has it.)

The worst moments of my day occur around minute 85 of his gut-wrenching cry fest. The moment at which your checklist of possible quick-fixes has been exhausted, as has your last whit and ounce of patience. It's the moment where, may God have mercy on me for saying this, you wonder why you made the decision in the first place to put this child and all its responsibilities upon yourself. The moment where you feel the now-familiar chill of old sweat on your back after endless minutes of picking up, rocking, vibrating, shushing, singing, and any other -ing which might potentially put this little guy to sleep. There are many moments of what the Japanese call "Tai-hen," extreme difficulty without real mental challenge -- and from what I hear, that will soon change as they get older. But for now, the challenge is mostly physical. Besides that, there's the emotional challenge of not letting yourself feel like a failure for not knowing what on Earth is making him so upset right now.

But those moments when he locks eyes on me, when I know his belly is full, his diaper is empty, and every potential dream he could ever have is still alive and well - those are the moments that give me energy like I've never felt before. The moments when he turns his head and closes his eyes and looks just like his mommy did the night we met - or the moments when he yawns and starts to cough a little and looks just like I did in my last cute photo ever taken - and I think about the fact that he's got actual thoughts running through his little head - thoughts that are neither mine or his Mommy's, but are in some way mine and his mommy's...these are the moments that just blow my mind and make me realize that the "tai-hen" part of being a parent is only a quick anecdote. These are the moments where I am his father and he is my son, and I finally realize why my Dad didn't give up on me after the first thousand times I disappointed him, because this bond is like tungsten steel, and like nothing I ever could have anticipated.

Nil Lara - My First Child

I have known of a wonderful Cuban-American singer/songwriter named Nil Lara since a good friend of mine introduced me to him in college in 1998. One song was always a favorite of mine, entitled "My First Child." It was always a beautiful song, but obviously it's recently become even more dear to me since Kenzo came along. For any parent who needs an excuse to couple over in tears (that ISN'T because of sheer frustration and exhaustion) please listen to this song.

Amazon page - preview the whole album here - its worth it.